Episode 22: Orlando "El Duque" Hernández
I have been watching baseball regularly, if not religiously, since 1995. I turned nine in the midst of that season, and so for better or worse, I have grown up with the sport. Despite always being obsessed with statistics, I was never too far ahead of the curve with respect to player analysis. And while I have always tried my hardest to be objective, even as I clung to wins and batting average, I nevertheless played favorites. I usually sought numbers to prove my player was better than your guy, but it wasn’t until my mid-teens that I fully broke away from refusing to admit I was wrong because of whatever form of objective proof was starting me in the face.
In reminiscing about those early years of my fandom, I began thinking of my favorites from the mid-1990s through the early 2000s. And I realized, perhaps for the first time, that among the folks I’d argue were the best, only Mariano Rivera has reached the Hall of Fame. Moreover, a couple of them were … in the interest of not being too negative … far less good than I remember.
I decided to share what I have found of my childhood and adolescent favorites, and I will do so in positional order, from 1 (pitcher) through 9 (right field). And that means it’s time to discuss El Duque.
Orlando Hernández was the absolute coolest pitcher to watch. He strolled out to the plate in his high socks, which will forever be the best way to wear them, and took the sign from the catcher. So much of his face was hidden with the brim of his hat pulled low, and his glove held ever so close to his face. And then Hernández went into his windup, which to this day is a sight to behold:
It wasn’t just the windup that was fun to watch, either. After dropping the leg, Hernández pushed forward and threw a seemingly infinite number of pitches from a variety of arm angles. He could throw a hard fastball, that he could cut, run, and tweak the velocity; he through short-breaking sliders and big, loopy curveballs; and he probably came closest of all modern big-leaguers to mastering the eephus. He would throw overhand, side-armed, and everything in between. It’s impossible to watch Nestor Cortes without recalling Hernández.
In my heart and my memory, Hernández was a dominant force on the mound. Does that check out? To some extent, yes!
Hernández did not reach the majors until 1998, when he was already thirty-two. He defected from Cuba on Christmas Day in 1997, having last pitched there in 1996, and bounced between the Bahamas and Costa Rica, only heading to the United States after signing with the Yankees and securing a visa in the spring of 1998.
After a few warm-up starts in the minors, Hernández made his big-league debut on June 3, 1998. He pitched incredibly well, throwing 7 innings and allowing 2 hits, 1 run, and two walks, while striking out seven. Hernández he was even better six days late, tossing a one-run complete game. And I was already mimicking his windup in my backyard and on the playground.
Hernández’s rookie year was great by any measure. He tossed 141 innings in 21 games, nearly seven per start, and pitched to a 3.13 ERA (141 ERA+) and 3.53 FIP (22% better than league-average). He was a borderline All-Star by both versions of WAR (3.6 bWAR and 3.4 fWAR), despite the fact that Hernández did not debut until June. And he topped that off with a pair of dominant postseason starts: 7 innings of shutout ball in the ALCS, and a 7-inning, one-run effort in the World Series.
On a rate basis, this was likely Hernández’s best season. His ERA and FIP were career-bests, as were his hits per 9, home runs per 9, and WHIP (walks plus hits per inning pitched). He had a couple of seasons with better strikeout and walk rates, but the total package never came together quite as well.
That does not mean that Hernández was merely a flash in the pan, though. In 1999, he tossed a career-high 214.1 IP, seventh-best in the American League, with a 4.12 ERA (10th) and 1.278 WHIP (6th). His ERA (14%) and FIP (7th) were both above-average, and both incarnations of WAR paint him as an above-average starting pitcher. And he once again dominated in the postseason, pitching to the following line across four starts: 30 IP, 15 hits, 14 walks, 27 strikeouts, 1.20 ERA. Hernández took home the ALCS MVP for his efforts.
Unfortunately, 1999 was his last fully healthy season. Injuries cost him roughly 30 starts from 2000 through 2002, and he missed the entirety of 2003 following rotator cuff surgery. The combination of funky mechanics, age (he was thirty-four heading into the 2000 season), and heavy workloads almost certainly conspired against him, and by the time he recovered from his shoulder surgery he was thirty-eight.
Hernández remained mostly effective around those injuries, though. His ERA and FIP hovered around league-average in most years, and he was above-average by WAR’s reckoning three (fWAR) or four (bWAR) times from 2000 through 2007, his final season. And he continued to perform well in the playoffs, posting a solid 3.63 ERA in that span. All told, he had a sparkling 2.55 ERA in 106 postseason innings, and a well-earned 4 World Series rings.
The last big-time performance of Hernández’s career came in 2005, as a member of the White Sox. At thirty-nine, he entered Game 3 of the ALDS against the Red Sox. The bases were loaded with no outs, and the White Sox led 4-2. Hernández retired Jason Varitek (pop-up), Tony Graffanino (pop-up), and Johnny Damon via a swinging strikeout, escaping the jam without incident. The White Sox would win the game, and went on to win their first World Series in 88 years.
Am I, at the age of thirty-seven, suggesting that El Duque paved the way to that victory? Of course not. He only threw one more inning the rest of the way. But if you asked my twelve-year-old self the same question, he would unequivocally say “yes.”